Piss-o-gram - the new "happy slapping"
I was perhaps 4 or 5 or 6 or perhaps 17… wait, scratch the last “perhaps”.
My siblings and I were round at my mother’s best friend’s house, playing in the grass embankment with her children, who were our close friends. We were playing tag or something peasant-esque like that, (Wii wasnt invented back then, I think it was the age of the super nintendo console).
Being the youngest of the troupe, you always want to be included and once included and accepted by the elder and wiser ones (my sister being the opitimy of this, the Ralph of our Lord of the Flies brigade if you like, I am obsessed with that book). Anyway yes, once accepted you will do anything or in this case *nothing* to rock the magnificent boat of inclusion in the cool older sibling gang.
I needed to piss really bad. I was wearing some kind of gay girly dress. For some reason I was born with a hole in my logic. It generally means I leave things till they get worse and worse, thinking they will magically get better. The upside to this is that often, for no other reason that I can find other than I am an exceptionally lucky gal, this happens. Things just sort themselves out. However, my pee didnt evaporate inside of me that fateful morn.
I finally realised I couldnt hold it any longer, I called my sister’s name and kept wailing that I needed the loo. She said, “oh just go yourself or wait, we’ll be done soon…” Pfft, I said I wasnt supposed to cross the road by myself. My sister asked one of the others to take me but no one wanted to. They told me I was old enough to go.
I worried and dilly-dallied with the situation. Ooh I needed to pee so bad!
I did it. I ran across the road and up to the house, but then that thing happened, you know the thing? When you are bursting for the loo and the closer you get the more imminent disaster feels. Like when you are taking down your pants and about to sit on the loo and the closer you get to completing your mission, the more likely you are to wet yourself? No?
So I rang the doorbell, hopping from foot to foot, the disaster was still contained, the tights were still dry…
I heard the door handle turn… the sound of respite, so sweet to my ears…
Mayday! Mayday! My urgency seemed to increased ten fold!
Then my mum’s friend, a wonderful woman, was standing there, she asked if I had come all the way by myself.
It was too late.
The combination of a grown up who I felt so safe with and the stress of the road crossing and full bladder meant one thing…
I stood there, wailing and lost control. I just peed my pants on her door step. For a good thirty seconds, I think. How bizarre it must have seemed to her. I think she said, “Aww poor Miley”, whilst I hysterically peed and cried all at once. If only, I had been a funny 5 year old, I would have started to sing “Happy Birthday”…
Thinking back on it, I wonder if there is such a thing as a piss-o-gram. Hire someone to ring someone’s doorbell an reel off a rhyme about how much you hate them whilst pissing on their doorstep. Ha, ultimate diss!
The end of the story, she took me upstairs and I had my first and only ever encounter with a bidet. Yeah she was a posh lady with a bidet! I have a few more stories of my youth where I pissed myself, mainly when I was wearing a leotard, oh joy.
